


animal (take a bite of my heart tonight)

by spaceburgers



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Incubus Oikawa, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, that's it that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceburgers/pseuds/spaceburgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi finds himself the latest victim of a certain incubus who probably really shouldn't be trusted. Too bad he can't bring himself to care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	animal (take a bite of my heart tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> i really don't have an excuse for this, i'm sorry
> 
> i blame [isa](http://mochizou.tumblr.com/) soooooooo much
> 
> i imagine incubus!oikawa probably looks like haikyuu quest!oikawa, but picture him how you will
> 
> (and yes, oikawa is a self-lubricating demon, truly amazing, i know)
> 
> title from animal by neon trees, and yes, i promise, i'm working on my haikyuu big bang fic

It’s a testament, really, to Iwaizumi’s strength of character that he doesn’t even flinch when he wakes up in the middle of night and finds himself staring right at the face of death – albeit for the fifth night in a row.

“Oh,” he says, dully. “It’s you again.”

Practically sitting in his lap, leaning forward with both hands braced on the headboard behind Iwaizumi, the incubus grins.

“Did you miss me, Iwa-chan?” he drawls.

“No,” Iwaizumi deadpans. “Can you _please_ just let me get a good night’s sleep for once.”

“You know,” the demon sighs, mock-dramatic, leaning in even closer, “it’s because you keep playing hard to get that I keep coming back for you. It’s not _my_ fault you’re so interesting.”

“Why don’t you just eat my soul or whatever it is demons do and just get it over with already,” Iwaizumi mutters, attempting to roll over to go back to sleep. It doesn’t work, of course, because the demon’s hands immediately stretch out to frame Iwaizumi’s face, holding him in place.

“Don’t be mean, Iwa-chan,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly low and breathless. “I came all the way here to play with you.”

And for emphasis, he grinds down onto Iwaizumi’s hips, _hard_.

“I didn’t _ask_ you to come,” Iwaizumi mutters through clenched teeth, but even in spite of his words he can’t help it as his hips twitch upwards. It makes the demon laugh, throwing his head back as he strokes Iwaizumi’s cheeks with his thumbs, gentle.

“Well, maybe you should,” he returns, and then with an air of finality lets his hands wander underneath the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt, reaching up to skim across his bare chest.

Iwaizumi shivers, then, and the demon’s hips are starting to roll teasing little circles right on top of Iwaizumi’s lap – he can feel himself getting hard, and he knows the demon can feel it, too.

“Say my name,” the demon commands, authoritative, lips hovering barely inches away from Iwaizumi’s ear.

There’s little point, Iwaizumi knows, in resisting, not when he’s already this far gone.

And so he lets his eyes fall shut, lets the name fall from his lips like a prayer.

“Oikawa,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, and Oikawa hums appreciatively.

“Good boy,” he says, his voice low and sweet. His fingers are cold where they press against Iwaizumi’s chest, pinching and twisting his nipples.

“Do you want me to make you feel good, Iwa-chan?” he murmurs, and Iwaizumi nods, jerkily, eyes still squeezed shut. His breathing is starting to go ragged, and his hands go up to clutch at Oikawa’s shirt, fingers curling blindly in the fabric, desperate to find something to anchor himself down as Oikawa leans forward to lick at the curve of Iwaizumi’s jaw.

“You’re so good, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers, breath ghosting over the skin of Iwaizumi’s neck, and he shivers as he begins kissing at the sensitive skin there, letting sharp teeth scrape over the tendons there.

It’s dangerous, Iwaizumi knows – it’s dangerous to let this continue any longer than it already has, but he can barely care when Oikawa’s biting at his neck like that, when his hands, large and smooth, won’t stop running all over his chest, and then drifting lower, creeping into the waistband of his shorts.

“ _Oikawa_ ,” Iwaizumi grits out, and the bastard actually _chuckles_ , the sensation of his voice against Iwaizumi’s neck sending goosebumps all the way down his spine.

“I’ll give you what you want,” Oikawa says, soothing, and then hooks his fingers in the waistband of Iwaizumi’s shorts before pulling it down, agonizingly slow. Iwaizumi shudders, let out a noise of relief when Oikawa finally slides his pants off, pulling it down to mid-thigh before he stops, leaning forward to capture Iwaizumi’s lips in a kiss, hungry and wanting, licking into Iwaizumi’s mouth with a kind of desperation that almost leaves Iwaizumi’s breathless.

“Hurry up,” Iwaizumi mutters, and he’d be more embarrassed about how far gone he already is, but any thoughts Iwaizumi might have come to a grinding halt the moment Oikawa puts his hand on Iwaizumi’s cock and strokes.

Iwaizumi gasps, a wordless cry that’s punched out of him, and Oikawa laughs again, louder this time, thumbing the slit at the head, hard enough to make Iwaizumi choke out his name like a plea.

“Oikawa, please,” Iwaizumi gasps, hips twitching upwards, and Oikawa grins.

“Suck,” he commands, letting his free hand skim across Iwaizumi’s bottom lip.

Iwaizumi complies readily, sucking Oikawa’s fingers into his mouth hungrily, letting his tongue slide across each slim finger, slow and languid, and Iwaizumi watches carefully as Oikawa’s eyes go dark at the sight of it.

“Good,” Oikawa says at last, his voice even lower than before, withdrawing his fingers from Iwaizumi’s mouth. He’s still stroking him, hasn’t lost his rhythm at all, and Iwaizumi’s fingers shake a little when Oikawa takes his hand and places it squarely on Oikawa’s crotch, where he can feel the noticeable budge through his pants.

Iwaizumi’s hands are trembling ever so slightly as he squeezes, letting his thumb brush against the slightly damp spot that’s appeared. It’s with a small measure of satisfaction that he notes how Oikawa’s rhythm stutters, just a little, but Oikawa keeps on stroking nonetheless as Iwaizumi works at the buttons of Oikawa’s pants. Oikawa hums, leaning back to help as Iwaizumi slips off his pants, rolling it down Oikawa’s thighs, lean and muscular, and if he lets his fingers linger at Oikawa’s inner thighs, it’s worth the way he gets to listen to Oikawa suck in a quiet breath.

And when Oikawa finally, _finally_ sinks down on Iwaizumi’s lap, the groan that’s ripped out from Iwaizumi’s throat is far louder than he’d expected but he doesn’t care, can hardly care about anything but the tight heat that threatens to overwhelm Iwaizumi’s senses.

And it doesn’t help that Oikawa doesn’t offer any respite at all, barely gives Iwaizumi a second to breathe before he starts moving, rising to his knees before thrusting downwards again, and Iwaizumi’s hands move to grab onto Oikawa’s waist, gripping hard enough to bruise, but it’s all he can do as he starts moving, thrusting up to meet Oikawa halfway as he thrusts down, and the strength of their simultaneous movement makes Oikawa whimper and clench around Iwaizumi, too hot and too good and just all too _much_.

They’re building towards a rapid rhythm, much too fast for Iwaizumi to last, but he can’t help it, because Oikawa is giving and Iwaizumi will take as much as he can get, continues fucking up into Oikawa and getting lost in the sensation of being enveloped in the searing heat.

Still, it’s nothing to the way Oikawa keeps moaning, wanton and desperate, crying out Iwaizumi’s name like a plea, practically _begging_ for Iwaizumi’s cock when he tells him just how good he feels inside of him.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sobs, “you’re so—”

Iwaizumi can’t respond, has pretty much lost all capacity for speech by this point, can feel himself nearing the edge, and—

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa gasps, his voice strained and breathless. “Iwa-chan, I want to watch you come for me.”

And that’s it, that’s all Iwaizumi needs, and he’s crying out Oikawa’s name, high and desperate as he finally comes, hips jerking uselessly as Oikawa continues riding him through the aftershocks and shake his entire frame. It doesn’t take long before Oikawa follows, resting his forehead against Iwaizumi’s shoulders as Iwaizumi’s hand comes up to stroke Oikawa to completion, fast, hurried strokes that have Oikawa letting out a breathless whine before long.

“Oh,” Oikawa gasps, “oh, you’re so good, Iwa-chan.”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grouses. His hands are still gripping at Oikawa’s waist, but he loosens his grip, rubbing soothing little circles at the bruised skin there apologetically. Oikawa just hums, pressing another kiss to the salt-slicked skin of Iwaizumi’s neck.

“I’ll come again tomorrow night,” he promises.

“Please don’t,” Iwaizumi returns. They both know he doesn’t mean it.

Because Iwaizumi knows that as much as Oikawa says that Iwaizumi’s the one who keeps pulling Oikawa back, really, it’s the other way round – he doesn’t care, he thinks, if Oikawa’s just in it for an ulterior motive in the end. He wants this, as long as he can have it.

Oikawa’s hands are cold on his skin, but Iwaizumi’s breath is warm when he kisses them, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can kid himself that things are going to be okay. 


End file.
